


V - Motorcycle One Shot

by JiniZ



Category: V (1983)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 01:30:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JiniZ/pseuds/JiniZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’m not sure, but I think this was supposed to have been a dream I had. There’s no mention of an actor I had in mind, I used my actual name, and poor Ben M is an actual on-and-off high school ex. There’s no mention of where my parents disappeared to. They’re just gone. No explanation of why I’m living alone.</p><p>As always, all spelling and punctuation errors were left intact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	V - Motorcycle One Shot

Sunday, September 1, 1985  
V  
Note: Well, I finished a book yesterday called “V: Death Tide” and in it, one of the character, Kyle Bates, has an accident on his Yamaha motorcycle. That’s what it’s about. Sort of.

I had gotten a cycle 1st hand somehow, and I was teaching myself how to ride it – in the halls of the high school. Well, in the book, Kyle’s back tire was hit with a laser blast, sending him spilling on the road. I hit a rock. I had moved to outside and that’s where I hit it. In the school’s parking lot. I went skidding in the opposite direction of my bike. The only person who was there was Ben M. I have no idea why. 

Anyway, he saw me fall, and he came and helped me up. “U ok?” he asked.

“I’ve been through worse,” I replied. I dusted myself off and examined my jeans. I put a hole in the right knee, and it was bleeding. My palms were cut up a bit, but nothing I couldn’t handel. My Clue Creole t-shirt seemed to be intact.

“When’d you get that thing?” he asked.

“Yesterday.” I limped over to my bike. “I’ve been having a blast teaching myself to ride it. Kyle’s supposed to teach me, but he got hung up today.” I put my hands on my hips and shook my head at the bike.

“Kyle?” He asked as I picked up my bike.

“Yeah. He’s a friend of mine.”

“Do I know Kyle? The name doesn’t sound familiar.”

“No, you don’t know him. Not unless you know Nathan Bates. Kyle’s his son.”

“But isn’t Kyle w/the resistance?”

“Yeah…why? Do you object?”

“Well…no. Not really.”

“Not really? What do you mean?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Do you know Mike Donovan or Ham Tyler?”

“No. Not yet, but Kyle’s taking me to their headquarters tonight. He found out I killed to lizzards in my home last night.”

“You did? God, I wish I had enough courage to do that.”

“You would if you had a laser gun.”

“Where’d you get a laser gun?”

“Off a dead Visitor in town. It’s a handy little weapon.”

“I’ll bet it is.”

“Well, Ben, it’s been nice seeing you again, but I got to get back home. I’ve got some shopping to do before I go tonight.”

“Oh, sure. Say, can you give me a lift home?”

“Sure. Hop on.”

I took Ben home and sent to Slater’s. I looked through the books and I grabbed the next book in the “V” series: “Path to Conquest.” All the books I had been reading were real. Written about accounts w/the Visitors. I bought some clips for my Uzi (they weren’t sold there, but Bev got me some and I paid her for ‘em), a “never say die” t-shirt, some shaving cream, and a Hershey bar. 

“What’s the ‘CC’ stand for?” Bev asked me at the counter.

“Club Creole. Haven’t you been there? It’s the hotest spot in town.”

“No. I’ve been working double shifts and by the time I get off work, it’s closed.”

“Oh. Say, have you got any peroxide? I couldn’t find it.”

“In the back room. Just ask Kurt for a bottle.”

“Thanx.” I tossed her the money for it and went to get it. After I did, I poured it over my knee. I still had my jeanes on, and I knew they’d bleach, but I didn’t care. Besides, I couldn’t very well take off my jeans in front of a stationery store. I got on my bike and headed for home. 

When I got there, I saw a V-tor jeep in my driveway. I drove up, stopped the bike, got off, and put the helmet on the seat. 

“Do you live here, Miss?” one of the four guards asked.”

“Yes,” I said a little leary. “Why?”

“We are missing two guards, and neighbors reported gun shots here. Do you mind if we look around?”

“I have nothing to hide. Look all you want.” I had ditched the guards in the dump, cleaned the blood and used two cans of Lysol to get the B-B-Q chicken smell out of my living room. I heard a cycle coming down the road. I thought, Oh god! Not Kyle now! He saw the jeep and drove up the Sterns’ driveway. I saw him knock on the glass door, and Mrs. Stern let him in. Close call, I though.

The guards came out and said “We’re sorry to have disturbed you, Miss. Our mistake.”

“Hey, no problem,” I said smiling, but in a scared way. They got in their jeep and drove off. As soon as they were out of sight, Kyle came over.

“What was that about?” He asked.

“They’re missing their buddies, and wanted to look around.”

“What’d you do with the bodies?”

“I put ‘em in garbage bags and took ‘em to the dump.”

“Good thinking.” He looked at my jeans. “What happened?”

“I took a spill up at the high school I think I’ve pretty much got the hang of it. Concidering I made it home in one piece.”

He laughed and said, “I don’t think I’d get on it w/your driving just yet.”

“Why not? My ex did.”

“Your what?”

“My ex.”

“Your ex husband?”

“Kyle, I’m only 17 for god’s sake. I don’t plan to get married just yet. My ex boy-friend.”

“Oh. You men to tell me someone actually got on that thing w/you?”

I hit him playfully on the arm, grabbed the bag from Slater’s off my bike and invited him in while I changed my clothes. I put on a fresh pair of jeans and my ‘never say die’ t-shirt. I fixed my make-up and hair and went back to the living room where Kyle was. He was having a grand-old-time in the glider. “Having fun,” I asked.

“What IS this thing?” he asked.

“A glider. It was my mom’s. It’s my favourite chair.”

“WHERE can I get one?”

“Oh god. I don’t remember where she got it. It’s 3 years old. I guess anywhere lawn furniture is sold. You want a beer?”

“You drink?”

“Once in a while. I figure a beer once in a while is better than getting hooked on cigaretts.”

“Sound advice. And yes, I would like a beer.” So we drank our beers and got to know each other a little better. Afterwards, he announced we were going to the HQ. I asked if I could use my bike and he said “Yeah. Gotta get used to it, and the sooner, the better. 

“I’ll follow your lead,” I said climbing onto the bike. I put my helmet on and turned on the motor. Kyle came out of the Sterns’ driveway and I came out of mine. He lead me to Club Creole. We got off and I said, “Kyle, this is a restaurant, not a HQ.”

He looked at me in a superior way, and went in. We both took our helmets in. “Hey, Willie!” He addressed the bartender. 

“Uh, hello Kyle,” Willie said back. He introduced me to Willie.

“We already know each other,” I said. I come here frequently. He makes a good drink out of Pepto-Bismol and JD.” Willie smiled and Kyle grimaced.

“Come on,” Kyle said grabbing my hand. He lead me to the back room. There, I recognized Maggie Blodgette and Chris Faber. Another black man was there, but I didn’t recognize him. “Elias, Maggie, Chris,” Kyle said. “This is our new recruit, Killer.” I flashed him a dirty look. “Jini to most of her friends.” He said. “She’s almost as good a shot as Ham Tyler.”

“Please to meet you, Jini,” Maggie said extending a hand. I took it.

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

“Chris Faber,” he said, extending a hand.

“I know. Pleased to meet you.”

“Elias Taylor. Owner & manager of CC and resistance fighter.”

“Nice work you’ve done here.”

“Thank you.”

“Anybody else in?” Kyle asked.

“Downstairs,” Elias said. Kyle put down his helmet, took mine away from me, set it next to his, took my hand and lead me to a storage closet. I looked back at the three people questioningly.

“It’s okay,” Maggie said. “You’re in good hands w/Kyle.”

He pressed a button and the back wall of the closet opened. He lead me down a spiral, metal staircase. “Secret passages are in the movies,” I said aloud to myself. “This is all a dream. Very soon I’m going to wake up.”

“It’s not a dream,” Kyle said.

“I didn’t want to hear that.” I noticed it was hot, so I took off my leather jacket I used for riding, and flung it over my shoulder. 

“Anybody here?” Kyle called.

“I here,” a voice called back. He lead me into the next room. Mike Donovan, Ham Tyler & Juliet Parrish were seated about the room. I almost fainted. The 2 resistance leaders of the world. All heros. I swallowed hard as Kyle introduced me to everyone. When I took Julie’s hand, she noticed th scraped from my fall. “What happened to you?” She asked.

“I took a spill on my bike.”

“You’ve been riding a bicycle around town?” Mike asked.

“No. Motorcycle. I hit a rock. My knee took a beating, but it’s nothing I can’t handel.”

“She’s almost as good a shot as you, Ham,” Kyle said.

“I am not,” I said to Kyle.

“Don’t let her fool you. She’s as good as Maggie. Maybe even better.”

“Kyle, come on. There’s no way I’m almost as good a shot as the great Ham Tyler.”

“I think we’re gona get along fine, honey,” Ham said as he cracked the closest thing to a smile as he could come to.

THE END.


End file.
